Not Quite In Love With You
by ClutzQueen
Summary: Clary Fray is living the high life of a Hollywood star, the most celebrated actress of the 21st century, and may just be Jace Herondale's saving point for his comeback film. However, there may be one problem. Clary hates his guts. Will 'Not Quite Immortal' reignite their lost love, or extinguish it forever? AU, but hopefully not too OOC...
1. Not Quite On The Airplane Yet

"CLA-RYYYYYYYYYYYY!"

I raised my head and slid my sunglasses further down my nose so I could peek over the top of them. Isabelle Lightwood was waving furiously at me, the latest IPhone clutched dangerously between the fingertips of her swinging hand and a precariously high pile of pink suitcases that matched her tight fitting, skimpy business suit. Her shriek had turned every head in a 200 metre radius toward her. Every boy's eye followed various bouncing body parts as she ran toward me, faster that I could imagine anyone could go in French-fuchsia seven-inch spiked heels, and threw her skinny arms around me in a death choke of a hug. She was already a head taller than me without the shoes, but in them she was so high up that my face was ploughed right into her abdomen.

Kissing both my cheeks firmly, her high-speed chatter started at once.

"Ohgodithasbeen_forever_ClaryhowwasItalyohgodwhyamIevenaskingitwasobviouslyamazingwerethepressundercontroldidyoumeetanycuteguyshowwasthephotoshootdidyouseeyoumadethecoverIfrickingtoldyouI'dgetyouthefrickingcover!"

"Whoa Izzy," I laughed as she paused for breath, hugging my publicist and friend back tightly. When she had said it had been forever it had more or less meant it had been a week and a bit, but I'd missed her all the same, "I'll tell you everything on the plane, 'kay? And wasn't this blue last Monday?"

Isabelle flicked the dark pink tips (Which were the exact same shade as her outfit and bags, obviously) of her ebony hair behind her angular shoulder, "Blue went out, like, two days ago Clary. Do try to keep up honey. It was super annoying. I'd just bought, like, an entire set of luggage to match this cute skirt and top set," she sighed like it was all too much, "God, being America's Best Dressed was never going to be easy, but Jesus Christ…"

"Whose that?" I interrupted. Unless you got in early, Isabelle Lightwood could go on about her wardrobe for hours on end, "Your latest?"

I'd long since stopped referring to Isabelle's boy toys as her boyfriends. There was a new one every fortnight. Last I'd seen she was attached at the hip to Meliorn, a pretty longhaired bass player of a rising band, Seelie Court. Or attached at the mouth would be more appropriate, looking back. _My poor, innocent eyes._

Isabelle looked back at the attractive dark haired boy she'd been standing with, who was struggling to stop her mountain of luggage from tipping over, "Oh! No. Nonononono. Ew. Come on, you two have to meet!"

"Still with Meliorn then?" I asked as she dragged me by the crook of my elbow.

"God no. He's long gone, thank god. He was so _boring_," she waved her hand

dismissively.

If a person who had been living under a rock for the last two years examined Isabelle and I, they'd definitely imagine Isabelle was the Hollywood treasure. With her expensive, colour coordinated clothes, expertly styled hair, and natural beauty, paired with the confident way she held herself and that sexy, perky walk that drew every male eye to her, she was definitely the easy choice as the famous one. I walked in a more skip-trip fashion with hunched shoulders, about a foot shorter than Izzy, my furious red hair tangled by the strong winds that had greeted me when I'd gotten out of my taxi outside the airport and wearing a simple pale blue t-shirt and jean skirt, with huge sunglasses hiding my eyes. But everyone who saw me would immediately recognise me as Clarissa Fray, the big screens shining prize, winner of eight Oscars in the last two years and several more nominations for my latest film, including best actress. The reason for my simple attire was simply to avoid attention from the paparazzi while I was on my way to catch my private jet to Australia to star as Liberty Jets, the female lead of Jace Herondale's new film, _Not Quite Immortal. _

_Do not think about Jace Herondale._

The boy Isabelle wanted to introduce me to was now attempting to hold up her pile of baggage by hugging both arms tightly around them.

"Clary, meet your co-star and newest hottie of Hollywood," she threw her arms around the boy's neck affectionately, "And my big brother, Alec Lightwood."

Alec looked up and greeted me with a sweet smile. I smiled back, but I was a little confused. On the casting call, the main male character of _Not Quite Immortal, _Gary Gray, was described as 'dark, rugged hero type with confident swagger and aura of sexiness surrounding him', no joke. Although Alec was definitely a looker, with mesmerising blue eyes which, paired with Isabelle's shiny dark hair, was a gorgeous and unfortunately rare combination that made my heart beat a little faster, the brownish sweater with worried away sleeves and absentminded nervous tapping against his thigh didn't exactly ooze sexiness or confidence. When I'd pictured Gary Gray, I picture a more arrogant, self-assured man. Possibly blonde. With a tighter shirt perhaps.

I realised with horror that the image I'd created for Gary Gray was Jace Herondale. I mentally kicked myself. It was because that's what Jace had probably wanted everyone to do. Of course he'd base the hero of himself. He was like that.

_Stop thinking about Jace Herondale._

"It's a pleasure to meet you finally Miss Fray," well, at least Alec's voice was strong.

I waved my hand at him, "Please, no formalities. I prefer Clary. Isabelle's told me a lot about you."

"I have?" Isabelle sounded confused, then squeaked as I stepped on her foot a lot harder than necessary.

Alec's eyes lit up, "If you don't mind me saying, Clary, I'm a big fan," he smiled, "It'll be amazing being able to work with you."

I wondered if there was a double meaning behind that. I hoped so.

"I'm a big fan of you too!" Clary lied, "I've seen your movie…er…um…that one with… oh, you were in Jace's last movie, weren't you? _Lesbian Chainsaw Vampire Chicks Vs. Zombies?_"

Alec's shoulders sank. It was obvious that Jace Herondale's last flop of a movie was not what he'd hoped to be remembered for, "Yeah. Not the best first feature film to start my career. We met at the Oscars. I won Ellen DeGeneres's Pity Award in the drinks break."

"Oh, right!" I laughed, "'The Abs That Saved The Worst Movie Ever'. I remember… We hi-fived! I didn't recognise you without the massive blush."

Alec fiddled with his sleeves, "My parents were in the audience and Isabelle kept screaming 'You go stud muffin'. Plus Aline Penhallow won 'The Boobs That Saved The Worst Movie Ever' and she kept trying to slip her room keys into my pocket. I had a little to be going on."

I burst out laughing, "And I thought it was awkward when Raphael Santaigo pinched my ass on the red carpet. You poor thing. Isabelle yelled at me too. She took a couple of shots in the bathroom."

Alec's grin was comfortable now, "'I made her! Ungrateful bi-atch, I created you!'?"

I buried my ace in my hands, "That was her."

"Hey!" Isabelle was filling her nails, "I just wanted to make sure you appreciated me and all I did for you, Miss Best Actress in a Leading Role!"

I felt a jerk on my sleeve and turned. A little girl looked up at me with big dark eyes, a tangle of blonde hair twisting down her back. She wore a sweet little girl dress and an expression of innocence. Two smiling matching blonde parents stood a little way off, watching her.

"Excuse me miss?" she had the slightest lisp, "Are you… _Clary Fray?_"

I smiled wide and looked down on her sweetly, in case I was being photographed. The headline in the next paper reading 'Clarissa Fray Hates All Children' that would undoubtedly follow me walking away from a young fan would put a real damper on my morning, plane to catch or not, "Yes, I am sweetie. What's your name?"

"Maureen. Maureen Brown," her eyes were wide with admiration, "I loved your show. _Clary and Jonny. _I was so sad when it was cancelled."

I couldn't help but scowl_. Clary and Jonny_ had been my first real acting job, when I was sixteen. It had been a kid's show I had hosted with my brother for a year, teaching young children about creativity and manners through ridiculous songs and over the top dance routines. It had been one of the most popular children's shows in America. Then Jonathan had left to study theatre, and I'd wanted to start more serious acting. Cue Jace Herondale. But my _Clary and Jonny _days still never failed to be my most cringe-worthy, especially since Isabelle never stopped joking about it. At parties she purposely played the _Clary and Jonny _soundtrack to unnerve and humiliate me.

I forced back my smile, "I was really sad when it stopped too, Maureen. I love dancing and singing."

Maureen's eyes lit up, "Can you sing The Little Blue Car for me? It's my _favourite _song. Pretty pretty please?"

A flash of panic shot through me, and it took all my strength not to bolt to the safety of the VIP terminal and hide forever. Luckily Isabelle, despite all her usual teasing, came to my rescue.

She crouched down to be eyelevel with Maureen, "Clary would love to, honey, but her plane is going to be going soon. You don't want her to be late for her plane, do you?"

Maureen considered this, "Missing planes is bad. Mommy missed a plane once, and she said lots of bad words at everybody and the police had to come and zap her with ray guns and punch her until her front tooth came out."

"…exactly," Isabelle managed after a long hesitation, "Do you have something you'd like Clary to sign, honey?"

Maureen thrust out a Sesame Street colouring book and I scrawled my curly signature across Elmo's face on the front page, along with the message Isabelle told me to write to everyone so it looked personalised 'Dear [Maureen] Keep smiling and always follow your dreams!'.

Unfortunately, the signing with Maureen bought a lot more unwanted attention. Underdressed females called out to Alec, who went red and hid his face. People got out phones of all shapes and sizes and stated snapping away. As we made our way quickly to the VIP terminal, Isabelle's masses of luggage along with Alec's worn black backpack and my blue velvet case rolling bag in tow, the crowd of followers waving various objects to sign in my face and begging for selfies and photos grew. The airport security kept them at bay, but we weren't even free in the VIP seating of the private terminal, with screaming fans handing over the red rope holding them back. Alec slid further down into his seat at every cry of 'Alec Lightwood, Marry Me!' or 'I Want To Sit On His Face!' or 'My Ovaries Are Exploding!. He obviously wasn't ready for this part of fame. Unusual for an actor that attractive, with abs that looked hard enough to break rocks on. His chest, as well as that of his fellow actress Aline Penhallow's, had been two sole saving points of a multi million dollar movie that had thrown Jace Herondale straight into the jaws of hungry critics, and forever branded Herondale Films as 'The Film Company That Made The Worst Movie On Earth'.

The only thing that had edged him up from the pit of bankruptcy, although I'd never tell them, was probably the thousands of home copies sold to sad lonely teenagers who only bought them to masturbate to Aline's incrediably low cut and often ripped open shirt and old creepy men who wanted to drool over Alec's ridiculous amount of shirtless screen time.

_Not Quite Immortal _had a lot of pressure to succeed. Another bad zombie movie from Jace and he'd be booted straight into the pit of arrogant, pathetic and asshole directors for all eternity.

_Like he should have been years ago. _

I remembered the last time I'd actually spoken to Jace Herondale. I'd seen him everywhere, magazines flaunting the shining star of media, accepting awards for best movie, and recently, tripping his way up on stage at the Razzies award ceremony to accept the Worst Movie, Worst Director and Worst Screenplay awards all in one.

But the last time we'd actually been face to face, skin touching, really there together before we were both just memories and news stories to each other- I'd been fleeing a premier cinema, face red with fury, angry tears pouring out of my cheeks and Jace on my heels, grabbing my hand, saying, _Clary, it was an executive decision…_

Me, turning and kicking him square in the groin as hard as I could, _So was that, asshole._

Him, face contorted with pain, _Clary, I love you._

_Clary, I love you._

_Clary, I love you._

"Clary!"

I blinked my way out of my daze. Isabelle was shaking my shoulders, "Wake up hon. Plane's here! Do you need to eat something? You look kind of pale…"

I shook my head, "I'm fine. Just…let's just go, Izzy."

Her eyes showed concern, but she snapped around and hustled her brother along. Fans still screamed in the background.

I remembered the text Jace had sent me to let me know I'd gotten the part. Not an email with details or even a phone call. Just a text.

_See you soon Liberty _

See you soon indeed, Jace Herondale.

Far, far too soon.


	2. Not Quite Over Jace Herondale

The taxi pulled up outside to set of _Not Quite Immortal. _I stretched my legs out of the cab and pulled myself into the sweltering, biting hot air of Perth, Australia. I'd never been anywhere in the southern hemisphere in my life, and my first impression was definitely _Jesus this is way too hot. _

Isabelle was on the phone to someone, angry, "Are you kidding me? She won't take less than that. Well, you can find yourself another cover. And forget your interview with my brother… Clary Fray is not a charity case, Seelie! Ok, that's more like it. See you Saturday hon!' she clicked off her phone got you the cover of Fair Folk Forrest again darl. Three times more than last time, too. Jesus Christ! Close the door, that's hot!"

Alec rubbed his eyes, waking from the quiet snoozing he'd been doing against his sister's shoulder, "Are we there yet?"

"We are," I groaned, "God, I'm getting pit stains already. Let's get inside."

We dragged our bag across what seemed like an impossible amount of sand before we got to a row of trailers. There, we stood awkwardly, unsure what to do. Sets weren't usually so deserted. There were usually people everywhere, ushering me to where I needed to go. I didn't even have a key or instructions on where to go, and from the look of Alec and Isabelle's faces, neither did they. Flies buzzed in my eyes and sand clung to the sweat on my legs, and the sun beat down on us as if it had a personal grudge.

"Clary-Fairy!"

I turned to be tackled by a wave of glitter and feathers. I let out a small shriek at the sudden human contact until my attacker lifted his face to kiss both of my cheeks. Magnus Bane, looking as glittery and fabulous as ever, picked my up and swung me around twice.

"Magnus!" I squealed until he put me down, my head spinning, "Oh my god, I haven't seen you since…oh god, it's so good to see you!"

I didn't like thinking about the last time we'd seen each other, after the premier of my last movie _Three More Seconds,_ a month ago. It had involved one night in LA, his cat's birthday and two full bottles of vodka. It had been the most fun I'd had ever in my life, but it had also left me with a massive headache, many regrets, and even more regrets when I read the front cover of the newspaper. Magnus had taken off to Tallahassee some boy he'd met at a club. But I had genuinely missed my personal stylist and all the glitter, sass and fabulous outfits that he came with.

His current attire looked far too hot and over the top for the weather, but he wasn't even perspiring. His pants were tight and bright turquoise, his shirt dropping sparkles everywhere and over it he wore a jacket that looked like it was made entirely out of peacock feathers. His hair was almost blinding from all the glitter hair product that shone off its rainbow strands, and his ears were full of piercings, his eyes a curious cat greenish-gold from those contacts he was addicted to.

Isabelle jumped him next, "Jesus, is that really you, Magnus? What happened to the Mohawk and the… pink?"

"So last season, my dear," he tutted, and Isabelle tenderly touched her own pink hair, a worried expression creasing her features, "Well, hello. I don't believe I've met _you."_

Alec, who had been staring in some sort of mixed awe and horror at Magnus and his outfit, blushed and averted his eyes as if Magnus was completely naked, "I…er…hi…"

"This is my big brother, Alec Lightwood!" Isabelle introduced happily, unaware of her brother's discomfort, "He was in Jace's last movie. Remember?"

"Oh, right," Magnus purred, snapping his fingers in realisation, "I didn't recognise you with your shirt on."

Alec flushed harder. Isabelle smacked Magnus's shoulder, "Be nice! That movie _ruined _us. You wouldn't believe how angry my parents were that I'd let him even get close to that box office poison. I had to get down on my knees to stop them getting him another agent. My own _parents_."

"Aww, Lesbian Zombies Vs. Chainsaw Vampire Chicks wasn't that bad. It was…" Magnus hesitated to search for an adjective, "Under appreciated. Individual."

Alec huffed, "_Individual? _My mother called Isabelle the same thing when she was the only one in her class who couldn't count to thirty in year two because she _ran out of toes."_

Isabelle smacked Alec this time, "That's a secret! We agreed, asshole! Or are we going to talk about what _you _couldn't do in year two?"

Magnus and I laughed as Alec ruffled Isabelle's hair as she squealed angrily.

Magnus leaned in to me, "He's not fabulous enough to be Isabelle's brother. That sweater! God, my eyes are bleeding."

I laughed again softly, 'He's all yours, Magnus. Meet brooding, dark zombie hunter and sex god, Gary Gray."

"No. Effing. Way," Magnus gave Alec a thorough up-and-down, "Well. I can see it. But the sweater has got to go. And maybe the shirt to…"

As I hit him over the head disapprovingly, he yelped, "Hey! What do you _think_ I watched Chainsaw Zombie Vampires Vs. Lesbian Chicks for?"

"Obviously not for the title," I rolled my eyes skyward, "God, its too hot. Where is everybody?"

"Jace's bedroom," when I raised an eyebrow, Magnus added, "It's the only trailer with air-conditioning."

We pretty much ran to the directors living quarters after we gained that information. It was the biggest of all the trailers, of course, and that was just the outside. Inside, the walls were painted a gold, which I involuntarily matched with Jace's eyes, and the furniture shone, polished and expensive. A chandelier hung from the ceiling. A freaking _chandelier_.

We made our way to Jace's room, where we were greeted with a strong wave of freezing cold pure bliss. I nearly collapsed on the carpet, it felt so good.

Most movie sets I'd been on, the first thing that happened was I'd be locked in a cramped room with a long table where the director sat at the head and the actors and a fraction of the crew would sit around for hours drinking coffee and discussing ground rules, the script, the schedule and other various things most of us didn't listen to. Then we'd go to our trailers, stick up our timetable and do nothing for a week while everything else was organised around us.

A lot more people were in this room that the other gatherings had. There was no long table, but people sat in various places in the room, the floor, the desks, and the bed. I recognised some and others I'd never seen before. And then there were some I wish I hadn't known.

It was all so ridiculously unprofessional. It looked like a bunch of teenagers sitting around a room. Quiet, polite chatter echoed on the walls. Jordan Kyle, a hunky stuntman I knew from a different movie I'd been in gave me a half-hearted wave from his perch on the desk where he sat with a sharp looking blonde I didn't recognise. There was a deep tanned girl with dark braided hair and way too much energy for the heat, bouncing around refilling empty glasses with water from a massive metal jug when people waved them at her. Helen Blackthorn, her blonde hair twisted in a plait, who I knew via Isabelle was going to be the main supporting character, Gary Gray's sister, 'torn between good and evil' gave me a bright smile from the foot of the bed. I didn't know her well but she'd been one of the actresses dragged down by the failure of LCVCVZ so I supposed Jace sort of owed her a role in his comeback film. Speaking of actresses he owed, I was surprised to see Aline Penhallow perched on the bed next to Helen, award winning breasts flaunted by a low cut sweater and eyes lighting up when they landed on Alec. She winked at him not at all subtly, and I watched the boy turn red once again. He really was an easy blush.

Lying down on the carpet as if he didn't have the strength to sit up, was someone I definitely remembered.

"Si-mon!" I exclaimed, jumping on him. He gasped loudly as I knocked the wind out of him and struggled under my weight.

"Jesus Fray! I thought you were loosing that muscle you got for _Three More Seconds_!" famous music score director, and my best friend, Simon Lewis choked. We'd been friends since we were children. I was closer to him than I knew Isabelle, Magnus, any other of my friends. Hell, I think I knew Simon better than I knew my brother. We'd dated briefly when we were teenagers before we'd realised that it would be better to stay as close as we were as friends than face and inevitably messy breakup and never speak again. And I hadn't seen him in person in almost two months when he'd been writing a score for a 'secret' movie. I now realised why it had been a 'secret'.

I stuck out my tongue at him, "I hate you! Why didn't you tell me you were working on NQI?"

"I wanted it to be a secret!" he laughed, as I jabbed him several times in the ribs, his glasses going lopsided, "God, I missed you, Fray."

Isabelle was watching us with an unreadable expression. Simon and Izzy, as my two best friends, had been forced to interact through association with me, but their relationship was more than a little complicated. One minute they'd be laughing on the couch together with Isabelle's hand on his thigh and Simon's hand in her hair, the next Isabelle would be throwing things at him and Simon would be hiding behind me as protection. They were like siblings in the most dysfunctional family ever.

Magnus stretched out like a cat, his shirt riding up his impressively hard stomach. I didn't miss Alec blushing harder when his eye caught Magnus's midriff, "Where's Jace? The talent has arrived!"

The girl with dark braids bounced over to me like an excited puppy. She talked nearly as fast as Isabelle "Hi Miss Fray it's amazing to meet you I'm Maia I mean I doesn't matter but I don't know I'm a really big fan if you don't mind me saying of course you mind me saying sorry I'm so stupid god do you want a drink or something to eat I can get you coffee or tea or both or iced tea or some food anything you want…"

I stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. Her face was flushed and her body hummed with energy.

"Just a cold glass of water would be nice," I said with a smile.

"Same," Alec said quietly as if he didn't want anyone else to hear.

"Me too. With lemon. And a shot of vodka," Isabelle fanned her face, "Oh, I love your hair! Where'd you get it done?"

Maia seemed in awe that someone like Isabelle was even looking at here, much less complimenting her, "I do it myself."

Isabelle's eyes lit up, "Well, you have got to help me out sometime…"

"Look who has decided to grace us with their presence," came a silky voice from behind me. I jumped, not realizing I was still seated firmly on Simon. He choked as I knock the air out him once again.

I scrambled to my feet as gracefully as I could, "Ja- Mr Herondale. Hello."

Jace Herondale's golden eye zoned in on me. I met his glare with equal intensity. This was the first time in what seemed like an age that our eyes had met. Isabelle used to tell me our kids were going to have the prettiest, most effed up eyes in the world. Green and gold. Equal in dominance. I really wondered afterward if she had been talking just about our future generation's eyes. I'd never been a particularly romantic, feminine type. And although beautiful, Jace had nerves and and attitude of steel. Once either of us had made up our minds, there was no changing them. So, our relationship?

Simon used to say Jace was pretty and I was effed up, which made us _pretty effed up. _

Ha. Ha. Ha.

Our eyes held for a few silent seconds. Then the side of his lips tipped up and he said, "Please, call me Jace, Clary. We're all friends here. Hey, Alec Lightwood! You've grown!"

Alec smiled and accepted Jace's man hug, "You've shrunk, more like it."

He went on to greet Isabelle and chatted between them, leaving me staring at him like a crazy ex. I managed to break my eyes off him in time for him not to notice they'd lingered. I stared at Simon instead.

He mouthed, _You okay?_

I smiled, gave a small nod and went over to where Helen and Aline sat, pinching myself when I felt the urge to look back at Jace. Aline was a perky as I'd imagine she'd be with that chest.

"Clary!" she squealed, the y's in all her words sounding more like eeee's, "Hi, great to met you fiiiiiiiiiinally! Have you watched my movies? I've watched every single one of yours! I _love _you!" she broke off into giggles.

I wondered if the happiness was unnatural, a drug or other way induced, or if I was going to have to put up with this the entire filming process.

Helen was a lot more subdued, "Its amazing to meet you, Miss Fray," she beamed, "Jace is lucky to have you on set."

_Yes, he really was._

"Clary, please," I stuck out a hand, "You did a great job in _Lesbian Chainsaw Vampire Chicks Vs. Zombies."_

"Don't try. I really didn't," Helen laughed, "Hopefully I'll be better off in this one."

Aline interrupted, "Helen's _amay-zing. _She has such a _pretty _voice. This is a musical right?"

I smiled uncomfortably at them both.

"Hey Clary," Jordan Kyle and his blonde friend approached us, "Nice to see you again."

I accepted his hug, and then shook hands with the blonde, "Nice to meet you. Your name…?"

"Camille Belcourt," the accent was heavy in this one, "I'm your stunt double."

"Really?" Usually they picked a stunt double with at least the same colour hair. I couldn't imagine Camille ever looking even close to like me. She was at least two heads taller than me and had impossibly sharp features. She looked like an angel.

I hated pretty people. And just the way Camille looked down on me made me uneasy. I had a feeling we wouldn't exactly be the best of friends.

"So, Clary?"

I spun around, cursing how quick I'd been to react to Jace's voice. I should have ignored him one or two time. His face showed amusement, and I wasn't sure why. The world seemed to fade away around me.

He cocked his head, "How was your flight?"

"Good. I mean, it was okay. I guess. Okay," I stutted, "I…um…it was okay. I met Alec," I gestured to him weakly.

Jace smiled, "Jetlag?"

I didn't miss the mocking tone in his voice, "Yes, I'm sorry," I made sure that I didn't sound sorry at all, "So…how have you been?"

_Stupid! You're meant to be blowing him off, not asking how his been. And stop playing with your hair!_

I dropped the hand that had subconsciously travelled up to twirl my red curls.

Jace smiled wider, which made my feet shift nervously, "Very good, sweetheart, very good."

I stuck out my bottom lip stubbornly, "Really? I thought you would have been underground licking your wounds, after last season."

Jace winched microscopically, but I saw it, and it made me smile, "We all make mistakes Fray. I can remember a couple of yours," his smile grew wider as he sung quietly, "It's _Claa-ry, _and _Jooo-nny _now lets all have some _fun!_"

I growled and put my hands on my hips, "Shut up, Goldilocks"

"Bite me, Gingersnap."

"No thanks, I'm on a zero asshole diet, fuc-"

"Okay Clary honey, save the claws for filming," Isabelle slid in between us both and put her long, manicured hand on my shoulders, "Jace, I am about to pass out from the heat, could we get this over with?"

Jace gave me one long glare, and turned around, "Okay people, I know you probably all want to go and sleep off your flight, so I'll make this quick. Maia is handing out timetables now, and we'll go through them quickly. Extras will be coming in on the highlighted days, so we want to stay on schedule to make sure we're not behind and making them wait out here…"

There was the professional Jace Herondale. No nonsense, everything planned out and on time. To bad the non-professional Jace was such an idiot.

Maia dropped a heavy buddle of paper in my lap. I puffed out a breath of air at its weight. Alec was already flicking through his, intrigued.

"Raphael, our Doctor H, will be arriving on set in a week," Jace told us, "Until then, we will be trying to get most of the Liberty Jets scenes in the start done… possible getting onto a couple of the flashbacks with her mother and some Gary and Penny scenes with Helen and Alec. Oh, and air-conditioning should be installed in every trailer before Monday. Okay guys?"

The room cheered. Jace caught my eye and smiled. It wasn't warm, but not particularly mocking either. It was just a smile.

There was a question behind it. It asked me, _truce?_

I returned one with my answer.

_In your dreams._


	3. Not Quite Used To The Weather Yet

It was eleven o'clock at night, and no one was asleep. It had taken up about five seconds after the sun disappeared over the Australian horizon to begin regretting wishing the heat was gone. Because even worse than boiling hot was the bone chilling cold that the disappearance of the sun was followed it.

At first, all I had wanted to do was curl up with fifteen blankets, but then Magnus had gotten bored and decided to make a bonfire using five bottles of glitter hairspray and basically everyone had run outside to warm up around it.

Except Jace. I hated that I'd noticed.

Isabelle and Simon were clearly on 'calm' mode tonight, as the two were curled up into each other as Simon combed his fingers through Isabelle's hair. I had wanted nothing more than to catch up with my lifelong best friend, but I was happy that they were getting along for now. Helen and Aline were chatting in the firelight, although Aline was mostly focused on Alec and… all that he came with, let's say. Alec himself was sitting in between myself and his sister cuddling with Simon, looking rather uncomfortable. Magnus was sitting opposite to them, trying to look enthused by whatever Camille was talking about. I had, since the trailer meeting, found out they had dated, and that it hadn't ended well- Magnus hadn't shared the gory details, but it had involved an open bedroom door and a boy called William and had ended in Magnus being thrown onto the streets- but by the position of Camille's hand, she had gotten over it well and truly. By the look on Magnus's face, he wasn't so ready to forgive his night sleeping in an alleyway.

Even Maia was out with them, chatting with Jordan Kyle, the faint flush across her cheeks quite obvious in the firelight. I was watching them with interest.

"They're cute, aren't they? They've basically been attached from the hip since they got off the plane," Magnus had managed to escape Camille and planted himself in between Alec and I- Alec jumped when Magnus's arm brushed against his, "I think Jordan feels bad that all Jace has her doing as his lucky intern is making him coffee."

Alec shifted a little in the sand. I gave him a frown. I knew Magnus was eccentric, but Alec didn't have to treat him like he was contagious.

"Camille still trying to clamber back into your bed?" I asked him, and he rolled his eyes.

"I don't care how sorry she is," Magnus combed his fingers through his shiny rainbow hair, "My metallic purple jeans never recovered from that night. Forgiveness won't fix that."

"True that," Isabelle yawned, "I am going to regret staying up this late in the morning. Bags are definitely not in fashion. Lucky the press doesn't arrive until Saturday."

"That cannot be said for Clary and Alec's respective stalker gangs, however. They're everywhere," Simon pointed out, and Isabelle touched the skin under her eyes nervously.

"Hey, Maia, Jordan!" I called, and the two looked up jerkily like puppies who had just sighted a squirrel, "Come and sit with us!"

They complied, and Maia ended up sitting next to Isabelle, staring up at her in amazement, whilst Jordan bumped fists with Simon and lounged back next to him. He almost immediately launched into a near death experience in his last stunt job, the fourth instalment of the Praetor Lupus series, involving a parachute, a limo and a flaming tyre nearly bisecting him in the air. Knowing Jordan, I predicted he was spinning the truth a bit far but it made it no less entertaining.

Alec laughed at something Magnus had said off to the side before covering it up with a cough, "So you and Clary know each other?"

"Love, who do you think keeps that hair under control for those red carpet event?" Magnus ruffled my red curls affectionately.

"Woolsey Scott, for the last four months," I pouted and swatted his hands away, "How was Tallahassee?"

Alec suddenly became very interested in a smouldering piece of wood that had tumbled out of the flames. Jordan had got up and was trying to demonstrate a side flip dangerously close to the bonfire.

"He was a dog person. I had to think of Chairman Meow," he shook his head in disappointment, "Such a waste. Black hair and blue eyes. My favourite combination."

He said that very pointedly in Alec's direction, and Izzy's brother blushed fifty shades of red. I watched in amazement. Magnus flirted with everyone- boys, girls, straight, gay… he wasn't shy. But I had never seen such an amusing reaction out of the receiver of my stylist's flirtatious comments. I was glad that he wasn't running a mile at Magnus's up front advances. A mile away from Magnus was a mile away from me, after all.

"Camille doesn't quite fit that description," Alec noted, drawing scribbles in the sand and staring at the fire in an intense way that looked like he was trying very hard not to look anywhere else.

Magnus's mouth twisted into a frown, "Camille was… an experiment. And somewhere along the track, she stopped giving me results and started giving me grief."

Alec started chewing on his lip, "So you got bored? Do you get bored easily?"

Magnus laughed, and gave Alec a shark grin, his white teeth flashing in the dark like the Chesire Cat's, "I'd never get bored of anyone if they had eyes as blue as yours."

Alec showed off another fifty shades, and focused his gaze in the fire. Magnus was now openly staring at the boy. I decided to save him.

"I don't think we'll get on," I commented, "She looks to… unlikable."

"Jace owes her," Alec said glumly, "She was Helen's stunt double in LCVCVZ."

"Jace seems to owe everyone on this set," I glared at the sky.

"Except you," Alec pointed out.

I snorted, "You'd be damn surprised. Though you're right, I did go through casting. But it was pretty easy, since all I needed to do was take my top off and I got the part."

Alec looked genuinely confused, "You had the same audition process as I did?"

"And me?" Aline came and sat by us, "Wow, so basically we all got the same part? Can we swap, Clary?"

I looked at them both, startled, "_I _was joking!"

Alec blinked, and sounded a little unsure of his own words, "Um…me too?"

Aline was studying her nails, "Jace is really nice, isn't he?"

I gritted my teeth, "That's a matter of very personal opinion."

"Oh no, he is!" Aline said excitedly, "He let me in this movie even though I wasn't very good in the last one, and he gave me the main villain role as well!"

I looked over at the black-haired girl, confused. As far as I'd known, the main villain was going to be played by Raphael, Doctor H, the insane surgeon with a Frankenstein complex who controlled the zombies, "Who?"

Aline giggled, "The Zombie Queen! And he even said he was going to extend my scene when we were in bed- oh!"

I had grabbed Aline's wrist, "Aline, please do not tell me you had sex with Jace after he told you that you got that role."

Aline smiled dreamily, "I'm not _supposed _to tell you... But he's so nice…"

_That's it, I'm going to kill him._

"Excuse me for a second," I stood up stiffly and left Aline to throw herself over Alec's shoulder and make him even more uncomfortable than he already was.

I power walked all the way to Jace's trailer and threw myself inside without so much as knocking.

Jace was sitting in bed with his laptop open, scrolling aimlessly. While I threw myself in, he looked up, slightly startled, "Evening, Clary. No, don't bother knocking. Just barge right in…"

"_You," _I spat, almost to disgusted to form a coherent sentence, "_Shut up. _You creepy, sick, twisted _pathetic _little man. You repulsive excuse for a human being. I ought to leave this set _this instance _and go straight to the press…"

"Sorry," Jace interrupted, closing his laptop and holding up one hand in defense, "It's clear I've done something to upset you, but may I have the chance to ask what I did this time?"

"What you…" I saw red, and I almost screamed my next words at him, "More like _who _you did! With the promise of the main villain role!"

When he still looked clueless, I stomped my foot against the trailer floor, "The Zombie Queen dies before the title card even shows up. You told her she had the main villain role and then had sex with her! The Zombie Queen isn't even a minor role! It's a _cameo _of a _dead body!_"

Jace did not seem fazed. He was staring at my legs, "Wow. You actually stomped your foot. I thought girls only did that in movies."

I shrieked in frustration and started towards him with my fists clenched.

"Ok! Ok, calm down!" Jace let out an exasperated sigh, "One, I didn't tell Aline she had the main villain role. I told her she was going to be, quote, 'my Zombie Queen'. She was the one who interpreted that, I never told her it was a major part…"

"Well, she must have misread your actions then," I growled, "How _dare _you take advantage of a woman like that, you arrogant prick! How dare you take advantage of my _friend!_"

Outside this room, I probably didn't acknowledge Aline as more than an acquaintance yet, but it made my debate stronger.

"That leads me on to my second point," Jace ran a hand through his hair, "She was the one who jumped _me_, Clary. Not the other way around. When I told her I was giving her a role, she was very… happy and one thing led to another…"

"You still manipulated her," I said coldly.

Jace groaned, "Well, damn. I am _sorry _that I didn't resist the advances of an extremely attractive woman who actually wanted me. Just because I've moved on from you doesn't mean…"

"Don't," I warned, "Don't you dare bring that up as an excuse. In fact, don't even bring it up at _all_. This is about Aline, not my _mistakes._"

"Mistake?" Jace sounded hurt, but my glare was enough to hustle him back on track, "Well, what do you want me to do about it, Fray?"

"Fix it," I demanded, "Give Aline a bigger part. Or make her part bigger. I don't care, just get your lazy ass up from your throne, Prince Charming, and for once in your life, fix your own bloody mistakes, or I am leaving this set tomorrow, going to the press with the whole dirty scandal of Jace Herondale's sexual exploits and manipulations of delicate up-and-coming actresses and make sure you _never _make a successful movie again."

Jace smiled, "And if I do 'fix it'? What will you do then?"

"Not leave," I folded my arms, "I won't go to the press, and as a result, you might have a chance of one day making a semi-successful movie again."

"That's a bit poor. What about…" Jace fixed his gaze on me. It was so heavy I felt it in my soul, and I looked up at the ceiling, uncomfortable, "What about you forgive me?"

I looked at him in horror, "The day Aline wins an _Oscar_ will be the day I forgive you for what you did to me. In other words, it is _never _going to happen."

"That's not nice. Aline is your _friend_," Jace mocked.

"She is. And she's a great person, a much better person than you. That doesn't change the fact she has breasts where her acting talent should be."

Jace snorted, "You're on."

I furrowed my brow, "What?"

"Aline is going to win an Oscar for this movie," he insisted, moving towards me casually, "And when she does, you have to forgive me for everything. We start again. And maybe…" I only realised I'd backed myself halfway across the room when I felt my back hit the wall and he brace his left arm next to my head, "We can pick up from where we left off."

I pushed his arm away violently, "Maybe if you were half as good of a director as you seem to think you are, that could be an interesting bet. But I already said, and I'll say it again, it is never going to happen. Just like I am never going to forgive you, Jace Herondale."

"We'll see," Jace mused, and despite all the rage that was telling me to punch him in his perfect face, I couldn't deny my heart was threatening to break through my ribcage, "See you on set tomorrow. Unless you want to stay the night...?"

I was snapped out of whatever daze had kept me from already storming out of there and pushed him backwards aggressively. He stumbled back a few steps whilst I turned on my heel and left the caravan in a rush, the biting cold of the night no competition to the hot flush burning across my cheeks.


	4. Not Quite Sure What To Do About Sizzy

Emma Carstairs was screaming. It was the kind of scream that broke your heart, the aching disrepair of a child. Blood was soaked through her shirt and smeared across her forehead. Across her lap, her mother lay in a broken silhouette, one arm missing and her chest ripped open. It was the kind of scream that spoke of shock, regret, and the realisation of everything she had lost.

It was also the kind of scream that was going on way too long.

I was desperately fighting the urge to put much fingers in my ears. I was there to observe Emma's interpretation of Liberty Jets, so I could carry some of the aspects of her childhood character into my performance. It was day thirteen on set and we already far behind schedule. As much as I could use the opportunity to throw Jace under the bus, it wasn't all his fault in this particular instance. There had been an issue with expired working with children checks when fourteen-year-old Emma had arrived on set at the beginning of the week, and then Diana Wrayburn, the actress portraying my late mother Kaitlyn Jets in the flashbacks with Emma, had missed a flight and been stuck in LAX overnight, delaying us even further. Although he was keeping up a good façade, it was clear all the delays were starting to get to Jace.

"Cut!" he called out from his chair behind the cameras, muttering something under his breath before approaching the girl. Emma looked irritated to have her performance cut off, and swiped dyed red hair angrily out of her eyes. Magnus was extremely proud of his work on both Camille and Emma- the two blondes had been in his trailer for about three hours yesterday. Although he'd been bought in as my stylist alone, Magnus had insisted he was the only one on earth that would be able to get my exact shade. He wasn't the sort of guy that half-assed any job. If Jace wanted red, you wouldn't expect anything less than a perfect recreation of my precise colour, each curl or random kink in my shock of hair perfectly replicated in Camille's.

I just hoped the hair was enough to save the flashback scenes, of which there were many more to shoot, from Emma Carstairs questionable performance choices.

Caterina Loss, one of Magnus's team, took the opportunity to hurry across the set and rearrange Emma's collar as Jace talked to her softly.

"Hey, Em, the scream when you entered was perfect. Shock, horror, confusion, I love it, we're definitely using the shot. But…" the look of defiance Emma gave Jace almost made me laugh, "…maybe we could try some other stuff? Can you cry?"

Emma huffed in an 'of course I do, you stupid blonde peasant' way, and I couldn't stop myself from letting out a snort at that.

"Okay. Great," Jace jumped up and clapped his hands together, looking side to side, "So let's go… uhm… okay, doorway," he mocked opening a door directed Emma to follow his lead, "Realisation, scream…" he mimed pulling out a gun, "Shoot, shoot, shoot… shoot, shoot, shoot, shoot… and then…"

"I shoot nine times," Emma interrupted, "That's what the script says."

Jace looked like he was regretting having flashback scenes at all, "Alright then. Shoot nine times, and if you scream during that, that's fine that's good… but maybe after you drop the gun we can try something else? Try crying. Let's try that, okay?"

"No problem, Mr Herondale," Emma sounded as if this was a very big problem but she obediently made her way back to the set's doorway. A few years ago there was no way a 14-year-old actress would have spoken back to someone as inspiration and attractive as Jace Herondale. But he was washed up, and at this point Emma probably saw this film as a pay-check and nothing else. For someone so young, she had a bleak view of the acting industry.

She had a bleak view of Jace Herondale as well.

I left before they started shooting again. I wasn't getting anything from Emma but screaming and I certainly wasn't going to turn my Liberty Jets into a damsel in distress. She was going to be powerful, she was going to be strong and she was going to show who I had become since the days of _Clary and Jonny_. Aged, mature, with some wear and tear but nothing serious enough to break me.

_You're making your character analysis into an excuse. You're lying to yourself and everyone else if you're seriously saying__you came here because you liked the character of Liberty Jets. _

Outside the set, I was confronted again by both a blast of Australian heat and Maia, squirming up and down with a stack of clipboards shoved under her right arm. When she saw me, she instantly straightened up, and I could see her face was dripping with sweat, "Hi Miss Fray! Would you mind logging in where you're headed? Mr Herondale wants to keep track of everyone so we don't fall further behind schedule."

"I'm just headed back to my trailer," I jotted this down and signed my name, "Does Jace seriously make you call him Mr Herondale?"

Maia looked confused, "He's never really brought it up. He doesn't really talk to me outside telling me what to do. But that's okay!" she said quickly, panicking, "That's what I'm here for! Please don't tell him I said that, Miss Fray"

"Maia, firstly, can you please just call me Clary, you're making me feel old," I told her, "And secondly, you're here to learn from Jace, not fetch coffee for him and stand outside in this heat doing brainless tasks for him. And why as you jumping around so much?"

Maia looked embarrassed, "I need to go to the bathroom, but I don't want to miss anyone. What if someone comes out whilst I'm away? What if Jace needs someone and he can't find them because they didn't sign the sheet?"

I inwardly sighed but her babbling also made me smile. Her sort of dedication, even to such a small job, was what belongs on a movie set.

"Look, just hang up the sheet on the door and people will know to sign it as they leave," I suggested, "And if they don't, it's a tiny set. Let Jace get sweaty whilst running around looking for us, god knows he needs some exercise. And go to the damn bathroom."

Maia looked relieved, "Thank you Miss… Clary. Thank you so much Clary."

I gave her a smile, and she pinned up the sheet and walked quickly away, stil bouncing up and down. Shaking my head, I walked down the alley of makeup trailers, fanning myself with both hands. However, when I got to where the cast and crew trailers began, instead of turning left towards my trailer, I made my way towards Simon's. He'd been bunkered down mixing tracks for the last two weeks and I hadn't had much of a chance to sit down with him. Maybe if I ambushed him we'd actually get the chance to catch up.

I knocked twice before pushing his unlocked door open. Simon was sitting in front of his PC, massive headphones clamped over his ears and his eyes shut tight. I crept over to behind him and saw he was listening to a track labelled 'Gary And Liberty Meet #23'.

I tapped his shoulder and he jumped half a foot out of his chair, Jesus Fray! I'm in the zone, don't do that!"

"Can I listen?" I snatched his headphones and put then on before he could protest. Simon shrugged and restarted the track. It was mostly violins, and what sounded like a timpani. I loved how Simon's work spoke to you. It was like he wove words from the notes he created. I heard distrust, I heard attraction and I heard… bass guitar?

"That's you playing!" I gasped, "You're playing the guitar!"

Simon sighed, "I know, it doesn't fit in. I was just playing around a bit with some chords. I'm going to take it out."

"Don't you dare, Simon Lewis," I commanded, "It is perfect. It speaking Simon, which means you don't have to start a track twenty-four. If I hear so much as a tiny change…"

"You're not a composer, Clary," Simon groaned, "Yes, it sounds interesting, but this is a paying job and I have to give Jace what he wants."

"Half of your best efforts could win you best music score this year," I shook his shoulder, "Simon, it sounds great."

Simon rocked on his chair, "I don't know. I'll come back to it," he shut down the file and sent his computer to sleep, turning on his chair to face me, "Anyway, I guess I've been neglecting you. Tell me about Italy."

"It was beautiful. Amazing. And stressful," I added, "I'm used to having you and Isabelle following me around like a bad smell but I was all on my own up there. And the woman arranging my shoots didn't speak a word of English. We ended up communicating almost entirely through emojis."

Simon snorted, "We all missed you. Especially Izzy. She kept calling me at outrageous hours of the night freaking out because you hadn't answered your calls. I think she thought you had found some brilliant new publicist over there and was never coming back to her."

I rolled my eyes, "I could never do that. She's not just my publicist, she's my friend."

"Ah… yes. Speaking of which, I want to tell you something. Concerning Izzy. And I," Simon coughed as if to clear his throat, "And because you're her friend and my friend and I don't think she's going to tell you and I don't want anything to be awkward… Izzy and I sort of… hooked up."

My jaw dropped.

"Just once," Simon hastily added, "After the premier of Praetor Lupus IV. Jordan invited us all back to his place and we had a few drinks and… well one thing led to the other…"

"Please, spare me the gory details," I cut him off, "So… wow. I mean, are you guys… are you going to ask her out now?"

"God no," Simon laughed, but at my expression he sobered, "Look, Isabelle hasn't even talked about it with me. She left before I woke up and whenever I try to bring it up she either changes the subject or just stays silent. But then she's still all… I mean she was cuddling with me at the bonfire, and she asked me to come to her room last night and…"

"Did you go?"

"No. And now she's pissed at me," Simon buried his head in his hands, "She's just so… confusing. I have no idea if she wants me to be her boyfriend or… fuckbuddy, I don't know…"

"Oh my god," I gagged, "_Please _Simon, do not use the term _fuckbuddy _ever again when talking about the relationship between you and Isabelle."

Simon blushed bright red, "I don't know Clary. Do you think if I asked out Maia the intern that would make her less confusing or more so?"

I doubled back, "Maia? You like Maia?"

"Well, I think she likes me," Simon scratched his head, "And, I mean she's hot… and it wouldn't be as confusing as it is with Izzy. I'd just have a girlfriend, not some love-hate relationship with a gorgeous woman who half the time I can't tell whether she wants to kill me or sleep with me."

"Well, firstly, leave Maia out of it. There is no way asking her out to solve your Izzy problems will do any good for either of you," I said sharply, "And secondly, Izzy is used to people chasing after her. Look at every guy she's ever dated. You constantly trying to talk to her is just fueling her disinterest."

Simon looked distressed, "So I'm suppose too ignore her?"

I felt conflicted. Izzy and Simon were my best friends. I'd always considered the possibility of them getting together based on their dynamic, but I'd always suppressed it. Izzy wasn't a permanent person, and I knew a relationship would likely end in a messy breakup and two broken hearts. And then I'd have to choose one of them.

By setting them up, was I dooming myself to that fate?

"No, that would be too obvious," I said carefully, "Just act how you would around me. Friendly, kind and… abstinent," I nearly gagged, "Look, I'll organise something with Izzy. We'll go into town, the three of us. And make it clear you're not going to play games with her. Make her chase after you for a bit. But don't be an arsehole."

"That is a very confusing strategy, Fray."

"I'll be there to help," I promised, "I don't want you getting your heart broken, Simon. Isabelle could walk all over you in designer high heeled boots."

"I have boots too," Simon complained, but sighed, "Thanks Clary."

"No problem," I hadn't expected to come into Simon's trailer and end up talking about his sex life with Isabelle. It was all a bit too weird, but Simon had been there for me when I'd been falling head over heels for Jace years ago. It was the least I could do after all that chaos he was left to deal with.

Simon let me listen through the rest of the tracks he'd been working on whilst he made homemade slushies in the kitchen. They were all incredible, but I knew they'd be drastically changed by the time I heard them in post-production. It made me upset that Simon was so critical of his own work, but I guess that came with his love of it. I often was frustrated by not being able to say a line in the way I wanted it to be interpreted by the audience, no matter how many people told me it sounded perfectly alright.

I exited to his desktop screen and something caught my eye. A file called 'Orig #1'. I could still hear Simon rattling around in the kitchen, so I clicked it. It opened up a recording link that started with boy laughing together about how the microphone wouldn't turn on. I recognised Simon's voice, as well as Jordan's, which surprised me. I hadn't known the two to be particularly close.

An unfamiliar voice counted to three and the music started. It was a pretty basic beat at the beginning, but a complex guitar riff soon started over the top of it, followed by flute music that somehow sounded perfect with the tone of the song.

By the time Jordan started singing, I was already entranced, but his voice was low and gentle enough to only build to the atmosphere of the song. It was suspenseful, heartbreaking and catchy all at the same time.

_Why hadn't Simon told me about this?_

I heard him re-enter and quickly shut down the link. Simon shove a glass of red ice into my hands and I gratefully took a swig of it.

"What do you think?" he asked eagerly. Despite being an award-winning musician with no need for approval from someone who knew nothing about music like me, he'd always been searching for it. I was waiting for the day Simon would listen to one of his own tracks and think to himself, with no influence from an outside party, _damn I'm good._

I touched his shoulder, "You're going to go far, Simon Lewis. Just you wait."


End file.
